Always Blood
by Sparks
Summary: Cause it's always got to be blood. And she knows that now.


_It's always got to be blood._

It makes it easier, sometimes, to think of simple things, but not always, not when the darkness paints my skin and the heat makes me itch and I think that maybe my heart isn't beating anymore.

_To make you a vampire they have to suck your blood. And then you have to suck their blood._

The scar he left me with aches, just a little. Just enough so I know I can still feel. Still feel him. Minemyownpossession. Was he mine? Or was I just his, always, just like they think?

The blood that pours from their throats will bring NEW LIFE to the old one. 

The night-blooming jasmine has run wild through the garden, and I wish I could wrap myself up in it. Would it drive away the darkness and the fear and the knowing that it's all for nothing dustashsweattearsblood? Blood to make me, blood to keep me.

_His blood will open the door to Hell._

I remember what he looked like when he went, down down down and into hell. I have a feeling that it's going to be the last thing I remember before I die again, because it was when I jumped AngelDawnGilesAngelWillowDawnXanderAngelSpikeDawnAngelTaraAnyaMommyAngelMommyDawnAngel.

_Love isn't brains, children, it's blood... blood screaming inside you to work its will._

Words are strange. They hang around me like so many twinkling stars in the sky, but they're not stars, they're black voids with screams helphelphelp and they want me to use the words, but I can't. How can I use words to say what's in me?

_'Cause it's always gotta be blood._

Sometimes I can think of simple things. Concepts that are meaningless to me now, but that mean so much to everyone else. Food. Drink. Dark. Light. Hot. Cold. Live. Dead. But the words and connotations whirl around me, and it all leads back to him.

_The blood of a Slayer is the only cure._

I'm not the only one, I remember sometimes, and I can't remember why the other isn't here. I recall wavy brown hair and mocking brown eyes and sweaty dances that I danced because I couldn't dance with my mate.

_I live in the action of death, the blood cry, the penetrating wound. I am destruction. Absolute...alone._

I fight. Sometimes I seek the fight. Sometimes I let the vampire come close…so close…nearercloserpleasebiteme…but then my scar burns, and I pull away and kill the creature.

_Death is your art. You make it with your hands, day after day. That final gasp. That look of peace. Part of you is desperate to know: What's it like? Where does it lead you? And now you see, that's the secret. Not the punch you didn't throw or the kicks you didn't land. Every Slayer... has a death wish._

I don't remember these people that come and go. Not really. Meaningless. I can feel their blood, and wonder why. My blood pounds in my veins and arteries and I wish it would stop and let me go backbackback please let me go stop the blood stopitstopitstopit.

_'Cause it's always gotta be blood._

It won't let go again, though, this cloying existence that chews on me from the inside and makes me vomit every day and oh-so-painful.

_Blood is life, lackbrain. Why do you think we eat it? It's what keeps you going, makes you warm, makes you hard, makes you other than dead. 'Course it's her blood._

I understand things now that I didn't, but other things escape my grasp. Blood binds and surrounds and I can feel why I have always been drawn to the pale one, now, because my mate's blood flows in his body bloodpossessionhisminemate.

_It has to have the blood_

I can feel him, too, even though miles and months are between us wrongbadcomeminemate and I wish he was here, but I can't go to him. They won't let me, these people of flesh who don't understand.

_'Cause it's always gotta be blood._

They would hate me and raise their voices if they knew. But it's blood, and blood is vital and makes me live and makes me closer to him, because the pale one was right, it's always got to be blood, and I need to know why, why my blood made him leave.

_Summers blood. It's just like mine._

Thin red criss-crossed lines, and I lap up the blood. PowerslayerdarknessfirstbloodslayerevilpowerfuckbloodmatepossesionMATE!

_'Cause it's always gotta be blood._

The jasmine scent wafts around me, and I smile, pretend that he is here minematepossession and not far away in the city of the angels. His mark on my neck burnsburnsburns and I wish he were here. I wish my blood was still, I wish my heart wasn't beating, but I think maybe sometimes it isn't, because it's so silent, just the dripdripdrip of the bloodredcoldlifehardbittermate.

_'Cause it's always gotta be blood._

It's there, inside me. The blood. Power. Pain. Death. It's cold and hard and bitter and it's mine, and I have to live with it.

_'Cause it's always gotta be blood._

In a while I'll return to the house, like I always do. The cuts will heal before I get there, so nobody will know, and the pale one will not smell it. Only faintfaintfaint lines will stay to make me remember whowhatwhyhow I am. Blood and power and possession and death.

'_Cause it's always gotta be blood._


End file.
